The Lion's Share
by Mad-Friend
Summary: The light of battle entered his eyes. The time had come for some drastic action. This time he wasn't going to be left with the crumbs. Mrs. Tracy has made one of her famous chocolate cakes and Jeff is determined to get to it first this time. COMPLETE.
1. The Lion's Share

**THE LION'S SHARE**

I acknowledge Carlton own the rights to Thunderbirds and my admiration goes to the talented team who created and put Thunderbirds together.

The light of battle entered his eyes; the time had come for some drastic action. _This_ time he wasn't going to be left with the crumbs.

Mrs. Tracy has made one of her famous chocolate cakes and Jeff is determined to get to it first. What should have been a simple task turns into a game of cunning as he is outmanoeuvred at every turn.

Chapter One.

"Well, they won't find this one." Mrs. Tracy said confidently to Kyrano.

From his vantage point within the communal study, Jeff heard the conversation drift off up the corridor. His ears pricked up as he heard the muffled word "chocolate" followed by "strawberry shortcake" and "good hiding place." If that was the case, he'd have to act fast; past experience showed him that. If he knew about the cake, then inevitably his sons soon would. The light of battle entered his eyes and a determined look stole across his chiselled features. The time had come for some drastic action. This time he wasn't going to let them get there first and leave him with the crumbs. His altruistic nature had its limits. He _had _to sample that mouth watering treat first. His eyes glazed over at the thought.

With an air of stealth and caution, the head of International Rescue made his way to the kitchen, knowing full well where _the _hiding place was. His mother was nothing if not predictable. He smiled cockily to himself as he pulled back the drawer of the linen cupboard.

"What the….?" He frowned, his face dropping like a stone at the blank space that greeted him. "Okay, Mother, if you want to play it like that," he said, making a three hundred and sixty degree scan of the kitchen, his senses alert for the slightest anomaly. Dismissing the usual places – she'd hardly likely to have 'hidden' it in the fridge or pantry ­­- Jefferson Tracy rifled through a few cupboards, his patience clearly rattled as the cake remained elusively hidden. A thorough sortie of the kitchen drew a blank and he stood there scratching his head.

"Hang it, woman; where the deuce _have_ you put it?" he growled walking out of the kitchen, his brow furrowed. '_If those boys have got to it first…….No!_ _Don't even think about it._' Entering the utilities room, his frown instantly melted as the unmistakable scent of rich chocolate and fresh strawberries assailed his nostrils. Pulling open the door of the dishwasher, the grin threatened to split his face as the image of a large sumptuously decorated cake slid seductively into view.

"Mother, you've surpassed yourself," he murmured appreciatively, running his eyes avariciously over the rich dark icing and generous portions of chocolate covered strawberries, adorning the top, while the rich aroma tantalised his senses.

Jeff carried it carefully into the kitchen and grabbed a knife. This was no time to develop a conscience he reminded himself as he cut into the cake. After all, how many times had those boys beaten him to it? Well not this time.

'_And what about your Mother?' _a little voice reminded him.

His mother? Jeff hesitated as an image of disappointment, frustration and temper flashed before him. He started to lower the cake.

_'Surely you're not going to let a little thing like that put you off?'_ the other little voice goadeddarkly. '_Just give her your usual excuse,'_ the voice coaxed.

Jeff smiled compliantly. He'd tell her her cakes were irresistible, it worked every time. Lifting the confection to his mouth, Jeff closed his eyes in dreamy anticipation, not even minding as the rich icing squelched between his fingers. His eyes flashed open, widening in alarm at the sounds of rapidly approaching footsteps.

"Darn!"

Dropping the cake back onto the plate, and leaping to his feet, Jeff grabbed a tissue, his eyes locked sharply on the moving kitchen door as he hastily rubbed the icing from his fingers. Scooping up the plate he bolted for the adjacent utilities. He made it by a whisker just as Kyrano breezed in. Alert, Jeff realised the footsteps were headed in _his_ direction. Had he been seen? With no time to dispose of the cake, Jeff backpeddled with it out of the utilities room and beat a hasty retreat up the steps to the corridor above. He slid to a horrified halt at the sound of footsteps now approaching from the opposite direction.

_'Damn, what is it about this place? Want a job doing and they all disappear like gold dust. Want some privacy and it's like Grand Central Station.' _

Feverishly he looked around. Ahead and to the left of him was the door to Thunderbird One's workshop. If it was locked…..the thought brought a fine sheen to his forehead. With no time to consider the consequences, he dashed for it. Balancing the plate in one hand, he issued a silent plea as he felt urgently for the handle, his eyes fixed on the corridor. The footsteps were only seconds away. He gasped audibly as the plate tilted, tipping the knife forward. Jeff dove, his fingers locking round it inches from the floor, his other hand struggling to balance the plate. The footsteps were almost upon him now. Pressing hard against the door and resigned to the fact he was about to be caught red handed, Jeff gasped as it gave way. Not questioning it, he ducked inside with a split second to spare and leaned heavily against the door, sending up a silent prayer of thanks as the footsteps passed by. As his pulse rate steadied and his adrenalin levels returned to normal, the man with nerves of steel turned his attention back to the plate in his hands.

Looking at his surroundings, Jeff smiled wryly. This wasn't quite what he'd planned, but beggars couldn't be choosers.

"Well, at least I won't be disturbed in here," he said, lifting the unsampled slice to his mouth. His taste buds tingled in anticipation, when the stillness of the workshop was shattered by the persistent beeping of his watch. The shock made him jump and drop the cake. On blind instinct he fielded it with the plate, breathing a sigh of relief as he made a successful catch. Grabbing a tissue from his pocket, the fifty six year old ex astronaut hurriedly wiped his fingers. Drawing a steadying breath, Jeff addressed his watch. "Go ahead, John."

"You alright, Dad?"

"A minor complication, son. What can I do for you?"

"It may be nothing, sir, but during the routine maintenance checks I noticed the onboard computers were registering a glitch in the variable-gravity sensors of Thunderbird Three's sleeping quarters. I normally wouldn't bother you with something like this….."

"Have you spoken to Brains?"

"I thought I'd mention it to you first, Dad. It's probably nothing, but I'd like you to take a look…….."

Jeff hesitated, looking longingly at the confection, knowing if he took even the slightest bite…….. John was waiting………... "Okay son, I'll be there in a minute." Jeff sighed. The cake would have to wait.

_'Are you crazy? One slice. How long will that take? Go on. What are you waiting for?' the dark voice enticed. _

Jeff wavered. The voice was right. It would only take two minutes. And the tempting slice was practically begging to be eaten.

'_What sort of an example is that you're setting?' _the voice of reason interceded._ 'If your sons could see you now…….two minutes? You know once you take that first bite you'll be lost. Business before pleasure, you always said. Where is your sense of duty?'_

The voice of reason won. Jeff turned towards the door, then turned back. He was certain the cake was safe; no-one was going to find it in Thunderbird Ones' workshop……but just in case……Jeff sensibly stored the 'to-die-for-feast' in the locker housing the small components for Thunderbird One before, regretfully, closing the door on it.


	2. Chapter two

Chapter Two.

Scott dropped the rag back amongst the tools and wiped the sweat from his strong handsome features. Needing to replace the mini energy chip for the A.C.D., he made his way along the gantry using Thunderbird One's platform, and then walked into the adjoining workshop. The first thing he noticed was the scent. His nostrils flared, instantly alerted to the unmistakable aroma of chocolate and strawberries. Certain he was dreaming, he breathed deeply again. Scott's appetite was legendary, and it didn't take him more than five seconds to locate the cake's hiding place. His blue eyes narrowed suspiciously. At first he was convinced Gordon had set him up, that it was some sort of exploding cake. He was on the point of marching out of the workshop to dump the mouth-watering confection onto Gordon's bed, when a smear of the rich velvety cream landed on his fingers. Automatically he licked it and that was his undoing. Without conscious thought, he'd crammed as much of the slice as he could into his mouth, grinning appreciatively as the rich cake and fresh chocolate coated strawberries slid deliciously down his throat.

"Grandma, I can't think why you'd want to hide this in here, but I'm sure glad you did," he grinned, cutting another generous portion. Torn between the desire to savour it, or devour it, gluttony won and Scott devoured the second slice so fast he started to hiccup. The sounds of movement alerted him to the fact he was about to be discovered. Swiftly thrusting the plate back into the cupboard, Scott grabbed the mini energy chip and regrettably left the workshop just as……

The door swung open and Jeff, with one final look around, closed it firmly behind him. It had only taken fifteen minutes to locate the fault and fix it. Even so, he was aware John thought his behaviour odd when, instead of accepting John's invitation to stay and assist, he'd made an excuse and left abruptly. But the thought of _that_ cake had warred, and won. Jeff looked visibly stunned as he opened the door of the locker and saw the state of the cake.

"What's going on around here?" He wheeled round, searching the corners of the room as if that would yield the missing portions.

Obviously his hiding place wasn't safe, and there was now the added risk of exposure. His mind made up, Jeff checked the corridor and left, booty in hand. His bedroom was at the end of the corridor and he found himself headed in that direction. Preoccupied with his thoughts, he didn't notice Virgil step silently from his bedroom into the corridor behind him, just as Jeff entered the sanctuary of his own room. His shock that someone had so quickly found the cake had subsided as he sat on the edge of his bed and cut into the remaining cake.

Before his sons had reached an age where they could compete with him for his mother's cakes, he'd had a clear field. Now he'd be lucky if he got the crumbs. But _not_ this time, he declared, opening his mouth, ready to give his taste buds the feast they were clamouring for.

"Oh for Pete's sake!" Jeff growled as the ringing of the emergency siren kicked in. Leaping from the bed, he headed for the door, only realising as he stepped into the corridor that he was still carrying the plate. Whirling round, he searched for a suitable hiding place, as he realised he had the operation of returning the remaining cake to its original place, before its absence was discovered _and_ he'd yet to taste it, and now, by the sounds of it, they had a rescue. '_And where the heck am I going to hide this cake?'_ The bedside cabinet caught his eye, it would have to do. Hastily he pushed it in as the siren continued with its persistent bleeping.

Jeff raced into the lounge seconds ahead of Gordon just as Scott emerged from the wall panel.

"Go ahead Alan," he said opening communications.

"Dad we have a hot air balloon that's gone off course, and is heading into the Antarctic seas. It's developed a tear in it's polyurethane membranes and is going down fast."

"Okay, son; give me the co-ordinates."

Alan quickly obliged.

"Are there any ships in the area?"

"No, Dad; not in the immediate vicinity. The nearest one is "The Indigo" and it's more than ninety minutes away. They'll have hit the water in just over forty…."

"What the heck's a balloon doing out there?"

"I-I believe i-it's the Majestic, M-Mr. Tracy, the o-one that's trying to set a-a new world record by going pole, to pole." Brains said, from his vid-com.

Jeff nodded. "I know the one. Isn't it trying to break the old record set by Piccard and Jones?"

"Th-that's right, Mr. Tracy."

"Alright, son; tell them we're on our way."

"Sure thing, Dad."

"Scott, make it fast; you heard the situation. Alan will give you a more precise fix once you're airborne."

"FAB, Dad," Scott said swinging back through the panel to TB1.

Jeff looked up as Virgil arrived. "Virgil, take Gordon with you. You'll need pod four, and keep up maximum speed all the way. You're going to need every minute you've got." Both nodded their affirmatives as they headed for their relevant access points.

Alerted by the signal from John, Jeff activated the control for Thunderbird Three's access point and watched as John rose into the lounge on the sofa.

"Anything I can do Dad?"

"Sure son, go with Gordon. He'll fill you in. We may need your communications expertise on this one."

"FAB, Dad."

Jeff sat back, placing his used coffee cup on the tray with a smile. It had taken just under two hours. The three man crew had been rescued and placed aboard the waiting freighter "The Indigo", his boys were less than two minutes away and all this before dinner. As if to remind him how close dinner was, his stomach growled, rekindling the image of that cake residing in his room... He knew the clock was ticking, that he was walking a fine line before its absence was discovered, but he had to have _that_ slice first, before he could even contemplate returning the remainder. First though, he had to give clearance to his sons who were waiting to land.

"That's not possible!" he fumed, pulling the plate from the cabinet. "That's just not possible!"

Going over the events of the past couple of hours, he knew the boys had all been occupied with the rescue. Brains hadn't left his lab, Kyrano had been occupied feeding him a constant diet of coffee and his mother had been by the pool with Tin-Tin during that time, and, unless someone was living rent free amongst them, there was no-one left. He continued to stare at the plate and the remainder of the cake.

"Of all the underhand……..who the heck's beating me to it? Is nothing sacred round here? Well if this place isn't safe...….."

Jeff made it to his private study unseen. With the rest of the family occupied he knew this time he'd be undisturbed as he turned his attention once more to obtaining that all important slice. His exasperation threatened to boil over as the intercom bleeped. Dropping the cake with an air of frustration, he stabbed at the console, barking into it. "Yes!"

The young engineering genius stepped back a fraction from his console.

"What is it Brains?"

"Ah, M-Mr. Tracy, I-I have t-the blue prints for the hover board ready for your inspection."

"Okay, Brains; just a minute please." Pausing communications Jeff began a private battle, 'the cake or the lab?' he flicked a glance at his watch. Time was now at a premium, his mother would be starting dinner soon.

'_Nerves of steel_……..' the dark voice sneered.

"Oh shut up!"

"Pardon, Mr. Tracy!"

"Sorry Brains; not you." Jeff cast him an apologetic look. "Okay, give me two minutes," he said cutting communications, then glanced longingly at the provocatively inviting cake. The temptation proved too much and he lifted it to his mouth. The rapid tapping on the door startled him.

"Jeff dear, are you in there..._Jeff?_"

Jeff dropped the cake like a red hot stone, slamming it back into his desk so fast he almost trapped his fingers, as the door swung open.

"_Jeff?"_

"Mother!"

"Jeff dear, what's wrong, you look rather flushed."

"Nothing…..nothing's wrong. Did you want something?" He asked, mentally crossing his fingers.

"Are you sure you're alright, dear?"

"I'm fine mother, what did you w……"

"Only you look……."

"Mother; I'm rather busy right now, and Brains is waiting to see me."

"Sorry dear. It's the fuses, they've gone again."

"Ask Gordon. I'm sure he'd be only to happy to fix them."

Mrs. Tracy nodded and smiled. "Well dear, aren't you coming, I thought you said Brains was waiting?"

With her shrewd eyes on him, Jeff had little option but to comply…….after first furtively checking his fingers were icing free. With regret he closed the door behind him and headed for the lab.


	3. chapter three

Chapter Three.

In sheer exasperation, Jeff just stood transfixed. Finally, after an age, he lifted the plate from his desk drawer. He continued to stare as if that would somehow negate what he was seeing. The knowledge that someone had been in his study further stunned him. He was still absorbing this when, with a brief tap, the study door opened and he whirled round, coming face to face with his mother. His jaw dropped.

Her eyes went from his face to the empty plate, her chest swelled with indignation. "Jefferson Tracy, words fail me!" she said, then went on to prove no such thing.

"Mother wh……"

"No need to ask what you've been doing." She said, pursing her lips at the plate that now housed only a few crumbs. She felt a sense of satisfaction as she watched the dull flush of colour warm her son's face.

"Of all the sneaky, underhand….." She was in full steam now.

"Now wait a minute……"

"Did you think you could keep me from finding out it was you?"

"You _knew it was me?_"

"Jefferson Tracy, I might be long in the tooth, but I'm not senile. My eyesight's fine and there's nothing wrong with my sense of smell either." She let him digest that then galloped on. "It doesn't take a detective to work out who the culprit was. Kyrano wouldn't dream of touching one of my cakes, Brains is too well brought up and, since the boys were out on a rescue that just left you! Plus I can tell a guilty smile a mile off….stealing the cake from your own sons mouths……"

"Now hang on; w….."

"That I should live to see the day when a son of mine………"

"This is _not_ how it looks……….if you'd only let me _explain_."

"Go on then," she said, taking the wind out of his sails. "I can't wait to hear you explain that empty plate away. And I can't wait to hear how it transported itself into your possession. And I can't _wait_ to hear you explain how it _doesn't_ _look_……well Jeff? I'm all ears."

"Well, you see……the thing is……." He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck and cast her a rueful glance. "Okay Mother, you win."

She nodded victoriously, "That's the thing about being caught red-handed; it kinda drops you right in it with no chance to dream up a decent alibi. It's a good job your boys can't see this. Some example _you've_ set."

Seizing the plate, she marched for the door. Turning, she looked at him and tutted, "Avaricious….."

"You know mother, if your cakes weren't so irresistible…..."

She almost melted, remembering just in time to hang on to her resolve. "Huh! Don't think for one minute that'll wash with me, Jefferson Tracy. I've heard that excuse once too often." She shook her head. "Depriving your boys like that. No doubt you're so full of cake you won't have room for any dessert." Mrs. Tracy pulled the door behind her with a knowing smile and looked up as two of her grandsons, wearing expressions of utter innocence, leapt back.

"So it was Dad then, Grandma?" Virgil enquired.

"That was some roasting you gave him," Scott stated.

"You boys weren't listening then?" For the second time that day she had the satisfaction of watching the flush of colour.

"There's nothing left then?" Scott asked.

"Now I didn't say that."

The brothers exchanged curious looks.

"I took the liberty of 'rescuing' what was left while your father was out of the room…….just to ensure you boys would have _some_ cake for after dinner."

"You mean there's some left?" Virgil asked incredulously, his eyes on the empty plate.

She nodded.

"I don't get it, Grandma. You knew Dad hadn't eaten all the cake, so why the roasting?" Scott asked.

She tilted her chin and pulled herself up to her full five feet two inch height. "Well now, why'd you think? Just be thankful it wasn't you boys who'd filched my cake."

She missed the deepening flush of guilty colour and the exchanged looks as she marched away with an air of victory in her step.

Meanwhile in the study:

Pondering on his mother's words, Jeff walked over to the desk, shaking his head. Lowering himself into the plushly padded leather chair, he reached forward and punched in the combination behind the concealed drawer panel to reveal a secret drawer that only heknew about. '_Deprived? Those boys?' _Jeff scoffed at the injustice.

"You've got it all wrong, Mother," he concluded, knowing his sons had beaten him to it again.

'_Well, almost all of it.'_ A smile of satisfaction crossed his face as he removed a small plastic box and peeled back the lid to reveal the piece of chocolate cake he'd had the foresight to stash away. The rich tantalising aroma of chocolate and fresh strawberries filled the room. His mouth salivated as he finally bit deeply into the layers of crisp chocolate, velvety cream, fresh strawberries and shortcake. His taste buds leapt with joy as they were at last rewarded with the various flavours rolling seductively over them. He sighed leaning back into his chair, his eyes closed in ecstasy as the cake melted and slid obligingly down his throat. With relish, Jeff tucked into the remainder of the irresistible feast, his face a mask of boyish delight.

Guilty by implication, he was now going to make sure the charge was justified.

The End.


End file.
